


Woman's game

by conaionaru



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Antisocial Personality Disorder, Infidelity, Manipulation, PTSD, Revenge, SLOW BURN (HVITTY), Smut, Toxic Relationship, Violence, anti lagertha, sociopath oc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:14:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28361511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conaionaru/pseuds/conaionaru
Summary: A one night stand between Ivar and Skuld leads to a toxic relationship that neither wants to admit is wrong.
Relationships: Ivar (Vikings)/Original Character(s), Ivar (Vikings)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 4





	1. The cripple and the drunk

The laughter of drunk Vikings was so loud one might have thought there was no music. Yet the celebration was more prominent than usual. After all, one of the Queens, sons is leaving for his first raid. Two sons of the legendary King Ragnar are going to discover unknown lands just like their father did before he became unforgettable. 

So a grand celebration to properly say goodbye and thank all their allies was in order. Aslaug sat behind a table with her sons, and Bjorn rounded the room greeting people. “The great Queen Aslaug. You have not aged a day; if it weren’t for your sons all grown up, I would think you were still the same.” The voice belonged to a woman in a dark blue gown with her dark hair tied up. She sauntered over to them and smiled at the Queen of Kattegat. “It is an honor to see you again, my Queen." 

"Earl Ylva, what a surprise to see you.” Aslaug mussed, staring at the woman before her. The last time they saw each other, Ragnar went to Paris for the first time. Ylva and her husband joined Ragnar because of their thirst for glory, only for the man to lose his life, and Ylva takes his place as Earl of Yugar. The female never got her revenge on the Franks and instead stayed in her Earldom with her children. And now she is back acting as if she did not spit in Ragnar’s face the last time she saw him.

“Bjorn, send a messenger asking me if I wanted to come. I did want to ignore it, but my sons would not listen.” Ylva confessed her face, a mix of anger and pride. 

Aslaug perked up at that and leaned closer to Ylva, offering her a seat near her. “So, you bought your sons with you?”

“I bought all of my children with me. All six of my vicious beasts.” The older woman laughed before finishing her whole cup in one sip. The Ragnarsson looked at her in shock. They faintly remembered her from when they were children. She was very protective of her children, especially since she lost her husband. They knew she had many sons. Yet, they never knew the exact count.

“So, you have six sons?” Ubbe asked curiously, looking the woman over. She didn’t look like a mother of six; she had a few faint wrinkles on her face. Yet no hint of a worn-out mother of a pack of ‘vicious beast.’ 

“Gods, no. Only five. The sixth is my daughter. Thank the gods for that.” Ylva laughed, looking at Aslaug with a raised eyebrow. “Sons are alright, but what I wanted from my marriage was a daughter. But apparently, I had to push out five little menaces before I could finally rest. I take it, you understand; you do have a lot of sons too.”

Aslaug smirked at that, taking a sip of her cup of mead. “Oh, I do understand—blessings and curses at the same time." 

Ivar frowned up at his mother, offended. "Am I a curse, mother?” Aslaug looked towards her youngest son and smiled at him kindly. 

“Of course not.” Ivar grinned at that answer while Sigurd scoffed only for Ubbe to shush him. A man walked by them, trailing behind a pretty girl with auburn hair and a dark dress with a flower pattern. He looked angry as he spat curses at her for ignoring him. The girl then spun on her heel and looked at him, one eyebrow raised and a smirk on her lips.

She swirled the liquid in her cup around as she made the man uneasy with her stare. “I am not interested. There is nothing…” Her blue eyes trailed up and down his frame, stopping at his crotch. “Impressive about you. You would be a waste of time. Now leave." 

Hvitserk choked on his drink, while Ubbe smirked at the cheeky female. The insulted man stomped off, muttering how she was an ungrateful whore. The girl looked at the two mothers behind the table and smiled. "Mother, I have been looking for you all over. My Queen, Prince’s." 

After bowing, the Ylva’s daughter sat down next to the Earl and smiled at the Queen. "If you keep scaring away every man, I will never get rid of you, love.”

The auburn-haired female smirked at that and let out a fake laugh. “I don’t scare every man away, Mother. Only the ones that dare to speak to me.” She trailed her keen eyes over the people around the table and looked at Margrethe. The blonde thrall looked miserable sitting next to Ivar. “Men are such bores. Women, on the other hand, are more exciting. Fewer problems with them.” She studied the pretty thrall who blushed under her gaze. She was shamelessly flirting with the other girl.

“Love.” Warned Ylva disapprovingly, angered by her daughter’s attitude around the royal family. 

“Don’t worry, mother. I didn’t swear off men just yet.” She looked around the room and frowned at a group of men eating mushrooms while in a burping contest. “Unfortunately.”

“You must be Ylva’s daughter,” Aslaug called out, watching the pretty girl who had all of her sons, except Ivar, staring at her in awe. Despite her earlier anger, the Earl smirked in pride and pulled her daughter closer.

“Aslaug, this is my pride and joy, Skuld.” The young girl smirked at the introduction and said, “ What a pleasure it’s to meet the Queen of Kattegat.

"Skuld is the name of the goddess of destiny. So are a Valkyrie also?” Hvitserk teased flirtingly, making the girl look over her shoulder and lean closer to him. 

“I do sometimes have the desire to send people to Valhalla. But I am no goddess, my Prince.” Skuld teased back, making Ubbe laugh at his brother’s attempt. 

“You are quite a beautiful girl, Skuld. You must have many suitors.” Aslaug voiced, thinking of engaging the girl to one of her sons. She interested the Ragnarssons, and an alliance with a strong shieldmaiden and the Queen of Kattegat might come in handy. 

“Oh, I do, but they never stay for too long,” Skuld explained, making a thrall refill her empty cup. 

“With how pretty and smart you are? Why would anybody want to leave?” Ubbe took his turn, trying to woo the newcomer. The Earl’s daughter turned in her seat to face him better and locked their gazes together. 

“That is very easy to answer, my Prince.” She leaned closer, making Ubbe do the same. “I… have a terrible personality.” She burst out laughing, making Hvitserk laugh at his older brother in return. So Ubbe hit him over the head for good measure. 

A cup slammed against the table, startling them all. They turned their heads towards the sound source to see Ivar glaring at Skuld with a terrified Margrethe by his side. “You are so annoying. You must not have gotten a lot of attention as a child, going around charming and insulting men." 

Everybody looked at him in shock while Skuld laughed at his attempt to insult her and sipped from her cup. "Oh no, I got plenty. I just got addicted to it. But you must know all about that, my Prince.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Ivar hissed back, glaring at her with all his might. He looked like a rabid dog ready to murder his prey at any moment. 

“What do you think it means?” Skuld teased her voice like honey while she leaned over the table, showing her cleavage to the angry Prince. 

Ylva pulled her daughter back by her arm and looked at her with a raised eyebrow, trying to remind her who she is talking to. “How many cups have you had, love?” Skuld looked at her mother with a face void of any emotion before smiling at her kindly.

“Not enough if I am to spend the whole night here.” She whispered back before gracefully standing up and looking at the Queen. “It has been a pleasure meeting the woman who charmed the legendary Ragnar Lothbrok, and your sons, of course. But now, if you excuse me, I must go annoy other people.”

And with that, she left the table to refill her cup and mingle with the crowd of drunken Vikings. She could see some of her brothers standing around drinking, boasting, or flirting their way through the feast. She loved feasts as big as this. She could easily go around drinking the night away without her family breathing down her neck about her behavior. Her mother tolerates a lot but from her children, but her patience wears thin whenever they make fools of themselves before essential people.

'The great shieldmaiden Ylva the Bold. The woman who killed more men than her late husband. As brave as a lion with her six cubs ruling over Yugar as she deserved. How many bards sing praises of her glory.’ What a load of bullshit it was. Her mother was a strong woman, yes. But she was nothing unusual in Skuld’s eyes. She knew her since birth; she was fed by her, bathed, played with her. Ylva the Bold was a mother first, then she was an Earl and shieldmaiden second. 

Her children didn’t carry their father’s name, for it would get no recognition anymore; he died an honorable death fighting on foreign soil alongside Ragnar, Lagartha, Bjorn, Halfdan, and Harald. But their mother’s name held more power. They were Ylvassons and Ylvasdottir to everyone. So they used those names with pride. After all, they were lions too, and lions fear no one. 

“Hello.” Rolling her eyes at the man’s audacity, Skuld turned around to be greeted with a tall, handsome man before her. He had fiery red hair like fire and the greenest eyes she ever saw. “My name’s Njord. I couldn’t help but come over; your beauty is just so… intriguing.”

Skuld smiled at the handsome stranger and took a step closer to him till they were chest to chest. Or chest to stomach in her case. “I am Skuld Ylvasdottir. It must say you are intrigued as well. Where are you from?”

The man was obviosly flattered by her compliment by the way his chest puffed up in pride. Or the smirk that he now wore on his face, as if he did some remarkable deed by getting her to talk to him. The truth is, Skuld liked to play with her victims before she rejected them. It was more fun that way, to build up their confidence only to see them burn and crumble afterward. 

“Ylvasdottir. So I did get to talk to royalty today, after all. And here I was concerned I would be ignored today. Have you come to say goodbye to your family? Or you secretly a shieldmaiden yourself?” He was charming; she had to give him that. But Skuld had better things to do than to talk to a man. Discover the bottom of the mead barrel, for instance. Maybe if she got drunk enough, she would look for him.

“Oh, I am no shieldmaiden. My mother likes to say the only weapon I wield is a sharp tongue. I leave the bloody messes to my brothers; they take more joy in it than I. And you? Only saying farewell or going away too?” She hid her lips behind her cup to cover her smirk before his forest green eyes. 

The redheaded Viking pulled her to his side by her waist and looked down at the surprised girl. “I am sailing away, of course. Make a name for me. I arrived with Harald Finehair, and I will come back alive and famous. The Ragnarssons will envy my success, and women will throw themselves at me. ” And all the possibilities of sleeping with him were gone now. He spoke of glory as if it was so easy to gain. If it was that simple everybody would be famous and well known. But fame demanded sacrifice, sometimes too high of a price to bear. And yet, this man thought he would gain it by sailing alongside better men than him. What a fool. He would come back to Kattegat as a corpse.

“So that is why you are talking to me? To see if I will throw myself at you right now?” She questioned her tone of voice, giving nothing away. Deep inside, she already hated him, but she was taught to hide her distaste behind polite smiles and fake laughs—anything to please the simple-minded warriors that could become useful one day. 

The Viking shook his head and put his large hand on her face, caressing her smooth cheek with affection. “I don’t want to offend you. If I did, please forgive me. I just couldn’t help myself; you are the most intriguing girl I have ever seen. I had to talk to you, even if I am not famous yet. But I am strong, intelligent, and kind. I would be perfect for you.”

She wanted to throw her drink at him or slap him. Who does he think he is? She wasn’t drunk enough to deal with a man too full of himself, touching her without permission. Luckily for her, she spotted her mother in the crowd talking to Harald, Halfdan, and Bjorn. She took the overconfident Viking by his arm and led him towards the group. Skuld made sure to sway her behind a little bit so he would look at it instead of where she is guiding him. 

“And she said yes? I am surprised by that.” Bjorn said, looking at Ylva, who chuckled at his teasing tone. 

“Oh, I was as surprised as you are. But I won’t complain; it does make things easier this way. No need to worry now.” She explained, watching Halfdan, who stood a little too close to her for her liking. But his attention was caught by something else instead. A thin arm wrapped itself around her upper arm. 

“Mother, I was looking for you. Prince Bjorn, what an honor to meet the oldest Ragnarsson.” Skuld leaned against her mother to steady herself playing it off as affection, but by the fake laugh her mother let out, she knew the truth. “Let me introduce my friend, Njord. He is certain he will become so glorious at the end of your journey that even you will envy him.”

The bear-like Viking looked at the shorter redhead with one lifted eyebrow. All of Njord’s earlier confidence was gone as he stood there looking like he will piss himself at any moment. He excused himself and ran off as Bjorn, Halfdan, and Harald laughed. 

“Must you always terrorize the poor men, sister?” Her older brother Brandr walked towards her and pulled her off their mother’s arm. He dressed up for today; he was trying to find himself a wife with no luck. He didn’t like that three of his older brothers were already married. So here he stands in a red tunic with his dark hair neatly brushed.

“It’s their fault if they get handsy. If I led him to Gunne, he wouldn’t have any hands anymore.” She said back, glaring at her annoying brother. They always patronized her because she was the youngest and the only girl. Whenever she behaved as they would, they would scold her as if she was a misbehaving child. 

“Well, then humiliation sounds better. I apologize for my warrior. He is very young and foolish, but he is a good fighter.” Harald said, looking the young girl over. She took after her father, like most of Ylva’s children. 

Skuld looked at the man who wants to be king of all Norway, and then her eyes trailed to his brother. She smirked at how close the man stood by her mother and looked back at Harald. “No worries. I am sure he will make excellent arrow fodder. I wish you all the luck in your journey; you will need it if you surround yourself with men like him.”

Brandr rolled his eyes at her and reached for her cup. “Give it here; you have had enough!” Skuld pulled her arm back and glared at him with all her might. Which was a lot considering she is Ylva’s daughter. Bloodthirst and death threats were hereditary in their family. 

“You touch my cup, and I will bash your head in with it.” She hissed, making the group freeze. Ylva reached out for her daughter, who has been acting far too strange this evening, only for Skuld to sidestep her. “On second thought… Take it. It is empty anyway.” She trusted her cup into his chest, making him glare back at her with the same amount of hate.

The auburn-haired Viking took a few steps away from them but change her mind and turned back around to look at Halfdan. “You touch my mother, and I will torture you until there is nothing left to bury.” She mockingly bowed to them all before looking at her mother with a small smirk on her lips. “I am going to get some air. Goodnight for now.” And then she walked away and out of the Hall. 

Skuld leaned against a wooden pillar and watched the dark city while laughter and drunken shouting echoed around her. Her head was pounding, and she wanted to scream in frustration. “Have you come to insult me again?" 

She looked over her shoulder at Ivar, who glared up at her. He crawled out of the feast to get some air, but it was just his luck to meet that rude whore again. "You are not that special woman.” Skuld chuckled at his venomous words and looked back at the city, ignoring the crawling Prince behind her. She closed her eyes, trying to silence the noises in her head and taking deep breaths.

“You are to stay with us while everyone’s out raiding.” Ivar pointed out all of a sudden, making her chuckle. 

“I am well aware, thank you. Why do you think I am drinking. I am trying to destroy my reputation so that you will send me far away. Preferably home. And it seems I have succeeded with you.” Ivar snorted at her explanation and swung his legs over the edge of the wooden floor below them. Skuld slowly sat down next to him, sighing as a cool breeze swept by them. 

“It did not work. You will stay here. Unfortunately.” Ivar mocked, looking out at sea. He had a lot on his mind since his father came back. He was to leave for England with him, so luckily, he wouldn’t have to spend time with the annoying girl. 

“I told my mother I would throw myself off the nearest cliff if she leaves me behind. All she said was that it is a great honor to stay under the Queen’s protection. How ridiculous. No offense to your mother.” Skuld spat out before collapsing back on the floor, causing Ivar to look at her as if she lost her mind. She laid on her back, her arms spread out with her feet dangling over the edge of the floor. 

“What are you doing?” Ivar asked, annoyed by her ridiculous behavior. 

“Sobering up. I am in no mood to bed someone, so instead, I am out here with you. Which does nothing good for my pride.” She said, playing with a strand of her hair, twirling it around her finger over and over. 

Ivar glared at her and slammed his palm down next to her face leaning over her like a snake ready to strike. “If you are so disappointed about spending time with a cripple, then go jump off that cliff. You are not wanted here anyway.” He spat the words in her face making her flinch and wipe his spit off her visage with disgust. 

She looked into his stormy eyes and raised one of her perfect eyebrows at his attitude. “I meant your personality, not your affliction. Now get off me before you give me ideas, and I take you to bed.”

Ivar wrapped his hand around her throat and squeezed her neck, cutting off her air. Skuld gasped out softly and wrapped her smaller hand around his, yet she didn’t try to pry his handoff. “That doesn’t help you at all.” She whispered, her eyes hooded and darker before slowly licking her pink lips. She raised both of her eyebrows at him, daring him to take the invitation and kiss her. Yet Ivar only let go of her neck and glared at her.

He crawled away, muttering underneath his breath, making her chuckle and reach out to him. She rolled over onto her stomach and called out to him. The youngest son of Ragnar looked back at her with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t leave, my Prince. The night is still young.” She seductively drawled out her breasts, nearly falling out of her dress as she raised herself onto her hands and crawled over to him on all four. 

Ivar watched her move, not breathing as the pretty girl stalked towards him, licking her lips once again. Skuld stopped when they could feel each other’s breaths in their faces. She looked at his lips and then into his eyes; she smirked at the dark look in her eyes and kissed him. Ivar’s hand wrapped around her throat again and pushed her away, making her whine in annoyance. “Stop it.” He ordered only for her to pout.

“Stop playing around. You are so annoying yet interesting at the same time. Do you not want to bed me? Am I not your type?” She asked softly, trailing her fingertips down his neck. 

Ivar snarled and let go of her neck but didn’t leave. So he was interested after all. “Go fuck somebody else.”

“What if I don’t want to fuck somebody else. I am not interested in those drunken fools inside or your pestering brothers. I want you, Ivar the Boneless, son of Ragnar Lothbrok.” Ivar rolled his eyes at her seductive tone, making her sign at his stubbornness. She liked the challenge, but usually, she had to fight men off, not fight for them. 

“Why? Never fucked a cripple?” Ivar mocked as Skuld sat back on her knees, watching his chest rise and fall. She shook her head and fixed her necklace and hair, so if somebody walked out, she wouldn’t look too ridiculous. 

“That has nothing to do with it. I like people with sharp tongues and brains; you aren’t the silent type, and I don’t think you are stupid either. Otherwise, I would be naked already. So what about me is putting you off? I will not pressure you anymore; I am just curious.” Skuld explained, her auburn hair falling over her shoulder as she trailed her finger up and down the floorboards. 

“You are annoying; that’s why.” Yet his eyes betrayed him. He was looking at her cleavage, and his fists were clenched in anger. 

“You are nervous.”

“I am never nervous.”

“Is it your first time?” Skuld questioned, her head tilted to the side, trying to find out why the boy before her kept resisting her even though he wanted to sleep with her. She wouldn’t force him if he didn’t want to, but she was curious why he fought her so much when he kissed her like a starving man before he pushed her off.

“It is not my first time.” Ivar spat back his nails, digging into his palms. He snatched her wrist and yanked her towards himself. Skuld crashed against his chest, but he steadied her by putting his arm around her waist and kissing her once again. 

When they pulled back, Skuld looked deeply into his eyes and softly chuckled. “If it’s not your first time, then why are you nervous?”

Ivar ignored her question and kissed her again, his arm around her waist tightening painfully. Skuld put her hands on his shoulders and drew his closer before she pulled away to catch air. “I am not going to fuck you here. So either move or let go." 

Ivar let her go and led her to his chambers. The wooden door closed behind her as the fire in his room burned brightly, ridding her of the coldness she felt before. Ivar climbed on his bed, looking uncertain. But when he opened his mouth to tell her something, he was met with her naked frame, her dress around her ankles.

Skuld slowly walked to him, but when she saw the wavering confidence, she stopped her advances. "You sure you want to? I won’t say anything if you say no.” Ivar swallowed but put his hand on her hip and caressed the smooth skin there. 

“I did try before. But it didn’t work. ” He explained, reminding her of somebody who confessed to breaking something. She smiled at him and kneeled before him. She put his face between her hands and looked deep into his eyes. 

“We can try if you want to. Maybe she wasn’t that pretty, or you were too nervous. If you don’t want to, we can stop. I could leave, or we can just talk instead. Your choice, Ivar.” The Viking looked at her face before bringing her into another kiss. He stroked Skuld’s skin roughly, which made her moan. The moans were exaggerated as his hands were a little bit too rough and inexperienced for her taste. Yet the sounds of pleasure gave Ivar more confidence, which made Skuld happier. 

He kissed her neck as she trailed her hands over his hands that stroked her sides. She pushed them towards her breasts instead, hoping he would get the hint, which he did. Suddenly he pulled away, snarling in frustration. He took off his gloves that protect his hands from the ground when he crawls. Skuld kissed his neck while he fondled her breasts in fascination; all of a sudden, she didn’t have to fake her pleasure. 

She rubbed her crotch against his, hoping to feel him get hard, yet nothing happened. She frowned at that and tried a different approach. She bit the spot where the shoulder meets the neck, yet all it got from him was a growl and a harder grope. Skuld trailed her hand down his stomach and took off his tunic. She then ghosted her fingers over his skin, goosebumps following her. The auburn-haired Viking kissed, licked, and bit his neck while she massaged his tense shoulders. 

Short gasps and breathy moans left Ivar’s lips while he focused on touching Skuld. He knew what she was trying to do, and the fact that his cock was still soft angered him. It’s like with Margrethe all over. Yet Skuld didn’t give up. 

“You want to know why I wanted to bed you?” Skuld whispered into his ear, her voice breathy. Ivar swallowed hard and softly nodded as the bit his earlobe. “Your face. Those piercing eyes, that jaw those lips and gods your hands." 

She kept whispering and moaning into his ear, flattering him with every word. He liked the sound of her voice like this, the seductive tone laced with pleasure and need. Ivar especially liked the meaning behind her words, no jests or mean words, only things that made his chest swell in pride. 

Skuld ground her crotch harder against him and smirked when she felt him harder. "I have met many men, but none like you. I see your future, Ivar Lothbrok. You are to be a significant man, loved by many, and feared by more. You are a legend in the making. Not because of your father, but because of yourself. No one will ever forget you.”

Ivar gasped and froze when he felt himself grow hard. He pulled her back by the hair, as Skuld moaned at the roughness. He looked into her eyes in awe, yet the girl only smiled at him. “What’s wrong, my Prince? Are you not enjoying yourself?” She teased before he kissed her again. She lowered his breeches with his help and sunk down on him. Ivar froze at the tight heat around him while Skuld whined into his ear, praising his size and grith. 

The auburn-haired female braced herself against his shoulders and moved on top of him, biting and sucking on his neck. Ivar gripped her hips in a bruising grip, but Skuld said nothing about it. She would have to lay off bedding anyone for a while. 

Again she pulled away from his neck and looked him in the eyes; they were hooded with pleasure as his lips trembled in need. Skuld liked the look on him; it was a nice change to the earlier anger and arrogance. Suddenly he wrapped his hand around her throat, making her moan out loud and tighten on him. When Ivar lost his concentration, did she cover her small hand around his throat too and looks him in the eyes. She pressed her thumb against his artery and smirked. “Like that, I don’t want to die tonight." 

Ivar fixed his grip on her neck as she advised; he trusted against her movements while she clung to his shoulders as he finished before her. Yet Skuld followed soon after when he tightened his grip on her neck. They collapsed against the furs of his bed, both breathing heavily with blissed-out expressions on their faces. 

"See. I was right; she wasn’t good enough.” Skuld teased, rolling off him and ready to leave the bed. But Ivar’s hand on her wrist and his pleading look made her stop. She sighed and laid down next to him, pressing his face against her chest and stroking his arm. Ivar relaxed in her embrace and breathed in her pleasant scent of flowers and sweat. 

“Then, I suppose it’s a good thing you didn’t bed her instead,” Ivar mentioned as Skuld chuckled at his jealousy. 

“I suppose you are right. Lucky me. Or you?” She teased, wrapping her leg around his, but Ivar hitched her limb higher so she wouldn’t feel his thighs against hers. Skuld didn’t mention that she did feel them when she was on top of him, not wanting to ruin the moment. 

“Do you always bed strangers while drunk?” Ivar asked, not meaning it in a wrong way. He wanted to know if he was one in many or special. 

Skuld drew runes on his arms as she thought she enjoyed the calm atmosphere around them. “Sometimes. Sometimes women, sometimes men, sometimes both if I am feeling adventurous.”

Ivar paused at her carefree tone, rolled off of her, and looked at the smirking female. “So, you really bed women?” Skuld stopped her ministrations and propped her head against her head as she laid on her side. 

“Of course. Who knows a girl better than a girl? Or a man knows a man.” She explained, smugly recalling her first experience with a woman—the little daughter of a farmer with doe eyes and short hair. 

“That’s stupid. A man with a man is stupid.” Ivar spat, making Skuld look at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“How come when a woman beds a woman, it’s sexy and exciting. But a man beds another man, it’s wrong. What are you a Christian? My brother bedded a Christian man once. He said their God didn’t like that.” Skuld argued, the lightheartedness from her voice gone. She could take a lot, but a jab at her family was unforgivable. The only one who could do that was her. 

“Your brother beds men? Then he is not a real man. What pleasure is there is taking it up the arse like an animal?” Ivar hissed at her, glaring at the annoying girl that would live with them for a while. Yet Skuld didn’t flinch at his anger. All she did was frown at him with her lips in a tight line as her blue eyes grew cold like the fjords. 

“How could you judge if you didn’t try it? They both seemed happy, so why should it be wrong? Haldor beds men because he enjoys them. Nothing wrong with that. You enjoy women; some enjoy both, some neither. Don’t be so narrow-minded, Ivar. Women had been some of the best fucks I ever had. So heed your word.” Skuld hissed back and rolled over the bed, ready to leave again. “The people of Yugar don’t care who fucks who as long as you don’t throw it into their faces. And we are just an Earldom, how come the greatest trading city in all Scandinavia is so ignorant?”

Ivar rolled his eyes at her rant and glared at her naked back. “You are not allowed to leave.” He ordered, seeing her slip her dress back on. Skuld looked at the seething Viking with a teasing smile on her lips and kneeled on the bed before him. She crawled towards him on all four and boxed him between her arms, with her breasts pressed against his chest. 

“I don’t like being ordered around. Neither do you. So do us both a favor and be quiet. And I will lay back down and stay a little bit longer. What do you say, my Prince?” Ivar looked into her in awe and slowly nodded, his mind fogged over with her tempting words. And so Skuld laid down next to him, hiding her pleased expression behind her locks of hair as she laid her head on his chest. 


	2. Power and control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning after and the planning for a match made in hell starts.

Skuld woke up with an arm wrapped around her waist and a hand resting on her chest. The sun rays were hitting her right in the eye as the town worked behind the window.

“Why is your hand on my breast?” She murmured when she felt the Prince stir behind her.

Ivar grunted in annoyance and pulled his hand away. “You didn’t complain when it was there yesterday.”

“To be fair, I wanted it there. Now your hand is being rude.” The auburn-haired girl smirked, rolling around to face the Ragnarsson. Ivar looked at her with sleepy eyes, watching her in awe at what happened yesterday. The rude girl managed to do what Margrethe failed to do. And all it took for her were a few words whispered in his ear. “What is bothering you, My Prince?”

“Ivar.” He snapped back angrily, glaring at her, but calming at her raised eyebrow and challenging look. “Call me, Ivar.”

She smirked and put her arm around his waist, stroking his stomach’s bare skin, causing him to shiver slightly. “Then you can call me, Skuld. It is only right, don’t you think?” The Earl’s daughter inched towards his face, slowly leaning towards his right ear. “Ivar.”

Ivar shivered once again at the whispered words, loving the way his name sounded on her lips. It’s worrisome how fast he had grown attached to her, and all it took was a night with her. His brothers would laugh in his face if they knew, or they would get real quiet. After all, they do think he is truly boneless.

“Skuld, it is then.” He agreed as she smirked in victory at him saying her name. And to think yesterday, he wanted her gone. He is thankful for helping him prove that he is, in fact, a man, but he would never say it out loud. Her ego is big enough, and she has no business knowing it. “Hvitserk and Bjorn are leaving today, and my journey with Father is coming closer.”

Skuld burrowed her face in his chest and lightly dragged her fingers up and down his arm. “Are you nervous? Or are you worried you will miss them?”

The Prince scoffed and shook his head. “They annoy me! At least it will finally be quiet. And I have nothing to be nervous about; I fear nothing.” He boasted happily, the twitch of his fingers betraying his confidence. “What of you? Are you not worried about your brothers and mother. She is old, after all.” Ivar mocked, causing her to glare at him.

“Of course, I am worried; I am not heartless. But they are more capable than people take them for—even my old Mother, especially my mother. Ylva the Bold is not to be taken by the Valkyrie yet. She still has many battles before her.” Skuld boasted proudly of her mother’s courage and power.

The woman took what the gods gave her and made the best of it. She got married to a brave warrior who rose to be Earl and bore him many children. She became a legendary shieldmaiden and became the Earl of Yudan after her husband’s death, ruling an earldom and raising six children. Of course, she had to fight to stand where she is now; no one just hands you power. You have to take it and fight to keep it.

“Are you saying that as a daughter or as a Norn and Valkyrie?” Ivar joked, making her roll her eyes. She heard the phrase over a thousand times. Her mother took great care of choosing all her children’s names, so naming her daughter after the Goddess of the future was no surprise. The Norn Skuld was the one who cut the threads of life and a Valkyrie who picked warriors to enter Valhalla. Yet men dared to use her name as a pick-up line when they wanted to sleep with her.

“I am saying this a person who saw her mother cut down men with daring tongues on the daily.” Skuld hissed, rising from her laying position and shifting into a sitting position at the edge of the bed. “Everyone who ever underestimated her died a painful death. And frankly, I love living. So if you share my passion for life, shut up.”

She stood up and went to pick up her discarded dress when the door to Ivar’s opened, and his brothers stood there with their mouths open. “Morning, Brothers,” Ivar smirked at their shocked faces, all aware of what went on between him and the girl last night.

“What happened here, Ivar?” Sigurd asked dumbly, causing the couple to roll their eyes at the obvious answer. “Did he hurt you?”

Skuld fixed her dress and combed her fingers through her hair to tame it. A teasing gleam was set in her eyes, enjoying the drama she caused. “Quite the opposite, My Prince. Ivar and I had lots of fun yesterday, but he is all yours now. I am satisfied for now.” She walked towards the door, looking at the smug Ragnarsson over her shoulder. “Have a nice day, Ivar.”

The said Viking smirked back at her, liking the way she mocked his brothers with their activities. Skuld fixed the other sons of Aslaug with a smug look and walked past them, ignoring their lustful and shocked gazes burning holes in the back of her head. “A nice to you too, My Princes.”

The brothers looked back at Ivar, who spread his arms with a smirk on his face. “Your slave was not good enough, Brothers. Luckily Skuld is not as useless as Margrethe.”

“You are late, Sister!” A voice called out from the window of the longhouse that Earl Ylva and her children currently occupied. Her brother Gunne was standing in the window without a shirt, amused by her walk of shame. Yet all Skuld did was mockingly bow to him and enter their home to see her family gathered around the table, breaking their fast. She sat in her down in the last vacant chair and smiled at her mother, sheepishly.

“Please tell me it was no one important,” Egil begged the girl, who still looked disheveled despite her efforts.

Skuld scoffed and ripped a piece of bread off, smirking at her irritated oldest brother. “I am sure Prince Ivar wouldn’t be all too happy about being called unimportant.” Egil scoffed and slammed his cup against the table, leaning back in his chair in a dramatic flare. Ylva rolled her eyes at her son’s antics and turned to Skuld, who drank from her cup as if she was dying of thirst. "It’s not like I am the only one who had sex yesterday. Don’t be so judgy, Brother.“

"It’s not like we have to worry about unwanted children when Haldor’s fooling around.” Brandr pointed out, jerking his head towards the youngest son, who looked just as rumpled as Skuld. The youngest son nodded at that, looking at his annoyed sister with wide eyes.

Skuld nodded along and snorted at the explanation. “Shut up, you buffoon!” They all started arguing at that, while their mother watched them with tired eyes, regretting ever coming to Kattegat. Ylva slapped her hand against the table, startling her children and making them look at her surprised while she twirled her spoon in her hand.

“It doesn’t matter who slept with who; if you are with child, you will decide if you want to keep it, or we will arrange a marriage. Do as you will, Skuld, but don’t fight with your brothers.” She spoke slowly, her eyes narrowing in a glare when Egil smirked at Skuld in victory. “And do keep your mouths shut, boys. Especially you, Egil. That is not how you will raise your daughter; Kara deserves better. Now…”

Ylva stood from her chair and walked towards Stigandr, who was quiet this whole time. She patted his curly hair before he brushed her off, embarrassed… “Sharpen your weapon and pack. Don’t forget, a dull blade is-”

“Is an invitation for death.” Her children finished, repeating the words of wisdom their mother repeated to them like a mantra. Their father’s blade was dull during the battle in Paris, and Ylva believes to this day that her husband would have survived if he sharpened it better. No one had the courage to tell her it wouldn’t stop him from getting beheaded by a Frankian.

Ylva nodded and walked out of the longhouse with her sword strapped to her hip, always ready for a fight. The siblings looked between each other and then, annoyed, split apart. Egil and Gunne went out to spar, the latter still shirtless. Stigandr took Brandr down to the market to explore, while Skuld and Haldor went to their rooms to wash themselves and redress.

Ylva walked the streets of Kattegat with her head held high and her hand clenched in fists. She heard the rumors yesterday at the feast and thought of nothing else the whole night. The bastard returned after such a long time, and she had every right to see him. To scream at him and hold a sword against his neck.

She could see Ivar crawling alongside a man dressed in dirty clothing, the man’s head is bald, and he has a beard. She walked towards them, not bothering to hide her hate. The older male heard the approaching footsteps and looked over his shoulder at the angry shieldmaiden he hadn’t seen in nearly ten years. He winced and faced her, bracing himself for a hit.

But Ylva did nothing, only glared at him, standing two feet away from them while Ivar looked up at her curiously. “Earl Ylva Hakonsdottir.” Ragnar greeted her, smiling at her in his usual way, obviously uncomfortable about the reunion. “Have you come to kill me?”

Ylva snorted and looked down at the cripple who slept with her daughter. “Perhaps I have. Or perhaps I want to talk to you about your son, who hid his cock in my daughter.”

With a wave of his hand and a nervous chuckle, Ragnar ignored her obvious anger. “And which one was it?”

“Me.”

Ragnar stared down at Ivar, who raised an eyebrow at his father in a challenge, in case the older man would question his ability to satisfy a woman. “Well, nothing I can do about it now.”

“I don’t care about that.” She glared at him and got in his face, her eyes unforgiving. “I pray that the gods favor your son more than they ever favored you. If I lose any of my children or my own life, you will pay for it, Lothbrok. You will bleed for every broken promise you ever made.” With that, the shieldmaiden left the two men behind, Ivar looking at Ragnar, waiting for an explanation.

Ragnar walked off with his son following behind, weirded out by what just happened. “You fucked her daughter?”

“Yes. Why are you asking? Are you curious how a cripple satisfies women?” Ivar mocked, smirking to himself, while Ragnar rolled his eyes at the answer.

“Just curious how long you will keep your cock if you get it too close to Ylva’s daughter. She does have a ferocious mother and five brothers. And if she is anything like the Lioness, you will have no ways to satisfy a woman again.” The older Viking explained to his son, who looked up at him in annoyance.

“Skuld is no threat to me.” Ivar spat back, staring at his father’s back. “Her mother seems like a threat to you, though. Why is that, huh?”

The King of Kattegat shrugged and slowed down to match Ivar’s crawling. “I invited her husband to the last battle in Paris. He bought her along, and they both fought by my side against Rollo. He was beheaded, and she blamed me for his death. After all, I was the one who promised him certain victory and riches.”

Ivar scoffed at the story and spat on the ground in anger. “He was the one who got killed; it’s not your fault. And she should be happy he is in Vallhalla, celebrating with Odin. She even got the position of Earl; there is nothing to be bitter about.”

“That’s not how she and I see it.”

Skuld walked down the streets of Kattegat with two girls she met today. The two were twins, very chatty and nosy. But Skuld learned that no matter the personality, people are always useful. And the more you know, the more you can use it in your favor—especially nosy girls with no filter.

In the end, everything came back to power. Wealth, information, and fame all bring you control, and who had all three is the winner. She yearned to be the winner, to be all-powerful and untouchable.

So Skuld spent her life gathering fame and information. If you smile at the right people and talk to those who have something to say, you are one step closer to your goal. All it took was repeating their names before bed so that she wouldn’t forget them, and remembering their information was easier.

Everything of value, Skuld knew by heart and would never forget. All the friendliness and chit chat paid off in the end. She would be better than her mother. Ylva relied on warriors and her fame from battle; that’s where her power laid.

Anyone can swing a weapon around and raid, but only the most cunning can manipulate and strategize. Like her, Ivar and Aslaug. The Queen of Kattegat rose high thanks to her looks and mind.

Skuld’s mind was always a gift; Ylva was sure of it. And the girl took pride in the way her brain worked. Ivar’s mind was fascinating as well; that’s why she slept with him. The Ragnarsson was far more cunning than be seemed, and people ignored his mind for his legs.

But walking isn’t a miraculous deed, yet he longed to be like everyone else. That’s why she pitied him; he focused on his disability and ignored his intelligence. If he furthered his wits, he would be unstoppable.

Skuld stopped in her walk and smirked in victory; her idea was brilliant. Why not show him how powerful knowledge is?

Ivar sat on a stone as his father talked to the men who agreed to sail to England with them. They were obviously in it for the money that Ragnar gave them, not worthy of the gifts at all. They were pathetic and would probably end up as arrow fodder.

The King of Kattegat turned on his heel and strode back to his son, seeing a young girl walking towards them. Her auburn hair swayed in the wind as she smiled at people with her head held high and pride in every step she took.

The girl smiled sat Ragnar as well and continued in her way to them; Ivar followed his gaze and smirked when he saw her; the girl returned the gesture and sat next to him on the stone. “Hello, Ivar. My King.”

“And you are?” Ragnar asked her curiously, noticing the way Ivar stared at her. He was intrigued by her, the deep neckline of her tight dress only encouraging his hungry stares.

“Skuld Ylvasdottir. I am sure you have heard of her. She mentions you very often when drunk.” Ragnar grimaced at the explanation, connecting the dots. Of all the women in the world, Ivar had to fuck the one whose father died because of him.

He can see the girl’s appeal; she was pretty, with a smile that said she knew things no one else did, but eyes as sharp as an arrowhead. Skuld was confident and knew people found her attractive. It reminded Ragnar of Aslaug a long time ago, when he first met the Princess.

Seeing the stares the two young Vikings shared, he slinked off to talk to other people, two couples not noticing him leave at all. “I have a proposition, Ivar.”

The Ragnarsson looked at her with a raised eyebrow, curious about what she had to say.

“I want to visit you today in your chambers. Would you like that?”

He smirked and nodded, well aware of her intentions. Skuld smiled at his obvious excitement and shook her head at his inability to hide it. “But first…” she tilted her head to the side to seize him up and chuckled at what she saw. “Tell me what you desire. And I don’t mean now. What do you want the most in your life?”

“I want to be equal to my brothers. I want Father to be proud of me, and people to fear me.” Skuld shook head in humor at his honest words. He was so predictable, seeking honor above all else.

Ivar glared at her dismissal, but before he could insult her, Skuld explained herself. “Tell me, Ivar… Do you think the gods value the mind or the muscle?”

“When in battle, there are two warriors. One stands tall and slaughters his enemies with ease. He swings his sword and ax around, not thinking of anything else but the fight. Then there is another warrior, crawling between the bodies like a snake, his legs useless, but his mind sharper than any blade. While the first warrior prances around, his broad shoulders and tall frame drenched in blood, the other warrior strategizes his every move, killing just as many as the first warrior. But the first one falls first. He is hit in the back by an arrow, his frame making him an easy target for the archer. While the first warrior dies, the archer is killed by the other warrior; his crawling body hid by the dead bodies. They are both great warriors; the only difference is when they enter Vallhalla. The first one was a strong fighter that died a stupid death. The other one lived.”

Ivar mulled her words over; she was right. Not all great warriors are invincible; the smarter ones live longer. “Who cares if you can walk or fuck. All that matters, in the end, is the legacy. Let your legacy be more than a battle well fought; make it a story people will tell to inspire others.”

“You have a way with words, don’t you?” Ivar asked, liking the way she boosted his confidence every time she was by his side. She challenged him but pushed him onward as well. Skuld is truly perfect.

“I try, My Prince Ivar.”


	3. Who is in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skuld’s family leaves for the Mediterranean so she spends some more time with Ivar before he leaves as well.

Today would be the day Bjorn set out on his journey, bringing everyone willing with him. Ylva sharpened her weapons peacefully, praying to the gods to keep her sons and daughter safe. The girl, of course, spends the day with Ivar once again. Loving the way the boy hangs onto her every word and challenges her right back.

So it was obvious that she slept with Ivar again. Out of all the men in Kattegat right now, her youngest had to choose Ragnar’s son. Once upon a time, even Ylva found Ragnar worthy of her bed. But she was married and had too many children. All Ragnar ever wanted were sons to carry on his legacy; what a joke it would be if Skuld would be the one to carry on Ivar’s?

What felt like a thousand years ago, she lest her beloved husband to Ragnar’s whims. And so all her attraction to the handsome king faded as well. Now, whenever she drank, she dreamt of all the ways of paying him back.

But the great Ragnar Lothbrok was very capable of destroying himself on his own. Taking a second wife, not raising his son, nearly killing his youngest, and abandoning them all. Now he was just a shell, while she has everything: children, loyal followers and allies, riches, and a throne.

All her children made her proud, and the older they got, the prouder she became.

Egil was their first child and looked like his father with his fair hair. Very responsible, but he had her anger and temper. How proud she was when he presented Liv to her. His lovely wife gave him a daughter soon enough. And the glory of battle overshadowed the need for an heir. Liv was, of course, too content to tell him she wanted more children. So Egil sailed to possibly imaginary lands and left Liv and Kara to watch after the earldom.

Gunne was a troublemaker since birth, so keen to annoy people. He had no problem with women or battle. So when he settled down with Hjordis, Ylva believed her a witch. But he grew calmer and boasted about his pretty wife that could dance the whole night away and never tire. Out of all her good daughters, Ylva liked the cheeky Hjordis the most.

Another favorite was Þórfríðr, Stigandr’s wife. The third born was everything Ylva hated. Silent, shy, and unsure. Þórfríðr charmed him because she knew what she wanted and told him to do the same. The only place he was sure and precise was the battlefield. People may underestimate him, but in battle, he would always win.

Despite being the fourth son, Brandr worried about his siblings the most. He had a pure heart and will of steel. No luck with finding a wife and giving Ylva more grandchildren, but that’s not everything in life. What matters is that he survives and lives on.

Haldor may not give her any grandchildren, but that doesn’t matter. His curly hair and adorable smile warmed her heart the first time she saw him. He didn’t scream like the others, only whined and snuggled closer. That attitude never really left him.

Skuld was the youngest. A little bit spoiled, but she was where Ylva bet her money on. She was wicked, intelligent, and brave, so much like her mother. Sometimes, Ylva worried for Skuld’s mind. The girl didn’t cry either when she was born. There had only been silence. But the babe wasn’t dead; it just looked around with tired eyes, silently judging everyone. The more Skuld grew, the stranger she seemed.

She didn’t follow cry when she fell; friends always surrounded her that she didn’t care about and had no problem with violence. At first, Ylva thought it was her brothers’ fault, but when she found her eight-year-old cutting herself, she knew it wasn’t the truth. Apparently, she wanted to see how blood looked like up close, and Brandr ran away before she could find out.

Over time, her behavior lessened, and all that was left behind was charm and cunning. But sometimes, Ylva saw the same dangerous glint in her eyes as that day. And yet, she thought of Skuld as her best child. Her youngest had the best chance of moving up in the world and becoming successful.

That’s why she allowed this charade with the Ragnarsson. As long as Skuld was enjoying herself, the danger of her violent side was low. And a Prince was better than the usual company she kept.

“Aren’t you a confident virgin?”

“I am not a virgin anymore; you know that,” Ivar growled into her ear, flipping under him and changing the slow teasing pace that she set. “Are you not enjoying yourself?”

“I had worse.” Skuld teased, wrapping her legs around his waist so he can go deeper, and scratched her nails down his nacked back. “But I also had better. So speed up, Ivar.”

The Ragnarsson growled like a feral beast and bit into her collar bone to ground himself. With rougher trusts, he made the headboard bang against the wall so even his brothers will hear. He wanted them to remember the sounds and prove he was a man, and Margrethe just wasn’t worthy of his cock.

Not like Skuld, who took his dick like she was born to do it. When she wasn’t naked around him, she joked with him and smirked like a sly fox. To think that he didn’t want her anywhere near him not even two days ago. And now, after round four, he felt like he found himself the perfect match.

“How about now?” He whispered into her ear; she didn’t answer, probably didn’t even hear him with how loud she was moaning. With one last high pitched moan, she shuddered under him and came. He followed five trusts later and collapsed next to her.

“A shame you will leave soon. Your mother will probably give me the cold shoulder the moment you sail off.”

“Why?”

Skuld chuckled and rolled over to drape over his sweaty torso. “Her darling boy is leaving on a dangerous journey. And he chooses to spend his last moments home, fucking the guest." 

"Mother had me my whole life. It’s only fair you had me for a little bit. I am doing what she asked of me before you came here.” Ivar chuckled and pulled her closer, careful not to touch her back. She had limits just like him, he never showed his legs, and she never turned her back to him or let him touch it. Whatever the reason, he didn’t really care as long as he got laid. “I am being a good host and paying you attention.”

“How nice of you.” She teased back, sitting up and leaving his bed again. This time not only to drink something like before. She picked up her discarded orange dress and put it on.

“You leaving already?”

“I have places to be. They are sailing away today, remember? I can’t warm your bed for the whole day. I need breaks too.”

“Not necessarily. You can still walk. That means you can come a few more times.”

Skuld smirked at him and brushed his hair away from his face. “I created an insatiable monster.”

“You could sate the beast like a good girl.” Ivar tried the words, waiting for any indication that she liked the new kink. But Skuld chuckled and trailed her hands down his chest to paw at his cock.

“Or you could take what is offered and stop complaining like a spoiled brat. Be a good boy and get dressed.” She drew her hand away from his lap and left him alone, looking dazed from her words. With a chuckled, he threw the furs off and left his bed.

Skuld walked to the shore where everyone was already present. Haldor was chatting with another man who enjoyed the attention. Her brother had some fun before he was supposed to leave as well. Good for him.

“I was worried you wouldn’t see me off, Sweetheart.” She turned on her heel to see the Ragnarssons standing there, waiting for their mother to stop talking to Harald and say her goodbyes.

“Maybe I came to take you to Valhalla before you could slay any enemies. Who are you to know?” Hvitserk grinned at her bold joke and moved closer to her.

He leaned to her ear and whispered softly. His breath lightly teasing her skin. “A shame I didn’t have as much fun as you did. You are rather loud, you know?”

“I am aware, thank you. Thank the gods your brother will leave soon. Otherwise, I will die of exhaustion.”

“I could talk to him if you want,” Ubbe suggested only for her to shake her head.

“Let him. I am sure you were all the same. I still see the insatiable spark in your eyes as well.” With the last sentence, she turned her eyes to Hvitserk, who was not hiding the fact that he ogled her chest. The second oldest smirked at her, no hints of shame, watching her as her oldest brother whisked her away.

“Another Ragnarsson, really? Isn’t one enough?”

“If I were you, I would worry more about my survival than my sister’s bed friends.”

Egil rolled his eyes at her attitude and led her to the rest of their family, waiting for her. “Why, you think I won’t make it? Do you truly have so little faith in me? Who do you think I am?”

“I think you are an idiot and annoying. Now leave me be, Egil.” She seethed back at him and strode over to the rest of their family.

Ylva smiled a sad smile at her and drew her youngest to her. With uncharacteristically soft hands, she took her face in her palms and stroked her cheeks. “Stay close to Aslaug. She won’t let anything happen to you.”

“How can you be so certain? She has no place in her heart for anything other than her sons and wine.” Skuld rolled her eyes at her mother’s advice. She still saw the plan to leave her behind as a stupid decision.

It would have been better for Skuld to stay in Yugar and rule in her mother’s place, instead of the three good-daughters that had the duty now. Placing her in Aslaug’s household was a strategic move, a sign of trust and peace. If the Queen were to break it, she would face the rage of the Lioness and her five ferocious cubs.

“Maybe not, but she is clever and knows how to avoid war. Our relationships have strained enough thanks to her husband. The very one she despises as well. So going against him and entrusting you into her hands…”

“Is the perfect way to give her a sense of power with her hands still tied.” Ylva nodded and kissed Skuld’s hair as one last goodbye before departing for her journey. She hugged all her brothers as well. No matter how annoying they would get, they were family. And family always supports each other, especially if possible death looms over them. And with their tendency to get hurt in battle, this may be the last time they see each other.

“Keep your wits sharp, Skuld. May Freya protect you.” Gunne whispered into her ear and passed her something wrapped in a cloth. He winked at her as he departed and sailed away.

Skuld’s face was devoid of all emotion as her family grew smaller and smaller. In Kattegat, she was a stranger and probably rumored a whore. How much easier it would be for her to leave in the black of the night and return home—seeing Kara running around covered in mud while Liv scolded her halfheartedly. Hjordis stitching on the loom while Þórfríðr mocked her shaking fingers alongside Skuld.

But Ylva made a choice and gave her an order, if Skuld were to disobey, she would be punished. The last time she did it, her mother placed guards outside her door that chased away any lovers. Not even the thralls were allowed to be by her side. And that was only for being late to a meeting with another Earl.

When the small dots on the sea were gone, Skuld retreated to her family’s hut. She sat down near the gone out fire and unwrapped the gift from her brother. Inside the cloth was a simple dagger with a wooden handle. It was light and easy to manipulate.

“Keep your wits sharp, huh?” She held the blade up for closer inspection and smirked in delight. It was a truly perfect gift. Skuld settled the dagger in her lap and teased her fingertips over the edge.

Skuld tucked the weapon away in her corset and left the silent hut. First, she must gather allies. And the best way to do that is to mingle with the common folk. Finding sympathies in Aslaug’s court would be impossible; right now, the only trump card she holds over the Queen is that she saw her son naked.

The people in the market watched her walk by; she sent them smiles, playing the brave, lonely Lady. Slave traders, slaves, merchants, farmers - all useless to her right now. A merchant’s ship would be a good escape in case of need. But they move on too fast, and she can’t strike a deal with every boat that comes here. What she needs are whisperers. Little unseen things that will tell her all they know. And won’t tell a soul they tattled to her.

“Margrethe! I would say it’s fate that we meet, but that would be a lie. After all, I live where you work.” The blonde slave smiled at her and shifted her hands in unease. “Would you like to walk with me?”

Of course, the girl had no other choice but to do as told. And so, Skuld led her away from the crowd by the arm. Smiling the whole time innocently. “Say, Margrethe… Does Ivar still bother you?”

Margrethe shook her head but still looked uneasy. She looked up at the taller female and leaned closer as if to tell a secret. “Did he…Did he hurt you?”

Skuld chuckled and pulled the scared girl closer to whisper into her ear. “In a way. But nothing I didn’t like. Did he hurt you?”

“Yes.”

Skuld frowned at the revelation. “Since the feast?”

“No… I only see him during meals. He doesn’t even look at me.” Margrethe confessed and looked at Skuld in confusion. It was weird of a foreigner to question thralls like this. The only one who ever asked her if she was okay was Sigurd, and he fucked her right after.

“That is good. I saw how uncomfortable you were that night. And I felt sorry. I also wanted to apologize for my flirting. I was drunk and wanted to lighten the mood. But I think I just made you more uncomfortable.”

“It is alright.”

Skuld shook her head and let Margrethe into an empty alley away from prying eyes. “Ivar is a cruel person, as we both know. And it would be better for everyone if they didn’t know what we know. Or he might become even worse.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Margrethe denied, fully well knowing what the Earl’s daughter was talking about. There was only one thing connecting them, and that was that they both slept with Ivar. Or attempted to in the thralls case.

“He told me, Margrethe. There is no need to deny it. And we don’t have to talk about it. I know that night must have been scary. I just want you to know not to tell anyone.”

“I told.” The blonde whispered, scared, her eyes terrified. Skuld wondered what the cripple Prince did to her after he failed to get hard. A simple failed fuck would scare her so much. “I told Sigurd.”

Skuld bit her lip at the dumb girl’s actions. Scared or not, seeking refuge by the brother that spat venom at Ivar was stupid. One argument, and he might use it against Ivar, leaving Margrethe as the only possible source, especially when Skuld told the brothers that she and Ivar had no such problems.

“Don’t worry. If Sigurd thinks you a liar, he won’t spread the news. All I must do is prove them wrong. I did most of the job already. Just a few more things, and he will think Ivar more than capable.”

“And how will you do that?” The wide eyes blonde stepped closer to Skuld. Trying to hear what plan the young female hatched.

Skuld leaned into her ear and whispered slowly, watching for any possible interruptions or witnesses. “Go to a healer and ask for Moon tea. Mention my name as often as possible. Ask for some herbs against pains as well. Say he left marks, and I ordered you to go there. Say anything that might sell the story, bruises, bite marks, even blood.”

“Tell some slaves as well - the ones that spread the most rumors. I will walk with a slight limp and wince when I sit down. Moan and scream louder than before so everyone will hear. If they ask you what happened that night, you tell them naught. Deny any accusation and seem shifty. As if you lied about the whole thing.”

Skuld pulled away after she was done whispering and watched the thrall try to remember the plan. “That will work. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. We, strong women, should work together. That’s the only way we might survive men like Ivar. Always one step ahead. If there is anything, you know that could help us…”

“The Queen…” Margrethe trailed off, not sure if she should tell or not.

“Yes…”

She swallowed and looked around as if the woman would jump out at any moment. “She isn’t fond of you. This morning she ordered Ivar to stop seeing you, but he protested and said he wouldn’t. She thinks you a spy or that you have ulterior motives. Hvitserk just thinks you horny.”

“That’s more or less it. I am also bored and want Aslaug to regret her choice of taking me in. I could be at home annoying my good-sisters and niece instead of diddling her darling son. But thank you for the information anyway. I will remember your words well. Now go before someone finds us.”

Margrethe ran off as Skuld watched her go, a deep sense of satisfaction sets in. Playing kind and concerned was as easy as breathing by now. Faking what people want to see or hear is easier than others think. Soon enough, they turn into little birds, fluttering around and gathering whispers and rumors—easy pray and yet useful. The more they believe you protect them and care for them, the more loyal they become.

During the night, Ivar sat next to her, propped on one arm. He was leaning over her with a frown on his face and kept pestering her. “Then why did you come to my bed if you don’t want to sleep with me?!”

“I was lonely.” Skuld shrugged her shoulders and looked at him with a teasing smirk. She was not hiding the fact that she is lying right into his eyes. “And maybe I wanted to be toughed kindly instead of being mauled by a beast.”

Ivar looked away from her and laid back down. Refusing to even look at her as a spoiled child would. “Oooh. Don’t be like that, Ivar. I want affection, give me some, and we can play.” The young Prince continued to look away, pretending that he didn’t hear her.

Skuld pulled a face at his stubbornness and rolled onto her side to catch his gaze. “Don’t make me beg…”

“If you keep being difficult, I won’t get in the mood at all…”

Skuld rolled her eyes, and forcefully turned his head to her. She held his cheeks in a tight grip, digging her thumb into his jaw in a warning. “I don’t like being ignored, boy. So either you pay attention, or I will leave you to play all by your lonesome. How embarrassing would that be, huh?”

Ivar watched her with nearly black eyes, charmed by her rough treatment, and hissed words in a fake sweet tone. “What do you want?”

Skuld smirked and loosened her grip a little, caressing the tender spots with her thumb instead. “Hold me for a bit, and you can do what you want later on.”

“Anything I want?” Ivar rasped out, looking like an addict with his drug right in front of him but still out of reach. She smirked in victory and patted his cheek mockingly.

“Within reason and boundaries. You do anything I don’t like, and you will be punished. I am not a slave; remember that.” The Ragnarsson nodded and pulled her against his chest, stroking her auburn hair with uncharacteristic gentleness. Maybe he wasn’t a lost cause after all and just needed a firm hand.

After the cuddles, Skuld kept her promise and let him fuck her how he wanted. The boy saw some positions that he wanted to try, so they had a few rounds before they were both spent. As Skuld laid on her back with Ivar sleeping with his head on her chest, she watched the shadows on the ceiling.

Her dagger was on the floor, buried under her dress. For whatever reason other than brotherly worry, Gunne thought she needed a weapon. What he knew, he didn’t tell. But there was something big coming if he was worried for her safety enough to arm her.

Ivar whined on her chest and buried his head deeper between her breasts. One of them hidden under his calloused hand, sleepily squeezing the boob. She sighed and scratched her nails over his scalp to lull him back to sleep, choosing to rest as well.


	4. The other shoe drops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivar leaves and Skuld is in mortal danger

The next morning, Skuld woke up early to buy wood ash soap while Ivar got ready for his departure. "Skuld!"

Queen Aslaug stood behind her and stared her down like a predator stalking its prey. "Yes, Your Grace?"

"Let's take a walk." She took the earl's daughter by the hand and led her away from the common folk to the Great Hall's steps. "Tell me what you think you are doing?"

"I am buying wood ash soap. I want to bleach my hair. I am sure it would drive Mother mad when she returns. And I think I would make a pretty blonde." Skuld teased charmingly, trying to ease the tension around them. 

Aslaug scoffed and clenched Skuld's hand tighter. To the eyes of the other's, they might have seemed like two bonding women instead of rivals. "That is not what I mean, and you know it. I can see when a person is smarter than they pretend to be. You, for instance, are far more intelligent than you let on."

"Is this about Ivar, My Queen?" She fluttered her eyelashes innocently, a mischievous spark hidden in her eyes. 

"Of course, it is." They continued their walk inside, Aslaug sitting down on her throne to seem more powerful. It was just like Ylva scolding her children while sharpening her weapons, a power move. "What are your intentions?"

"I assure you, I mean no harm to Ivar."

"Then why are the thralls walking around town talking of what you two do in bed? Margrethe is buying moon tea for you, and everyone signs your praise. They think him a monster."

"They gossip as women tend to do when bored. I ordered Margrethe to do a task for me; what she did after is not my fault. I am as angry as you are. No one should know what happens in anyone's bed. That is between the lovers themselves."

Aslaug scoffed and leaned closer to seize Skuld up. "So you and Ivar are really lovers... It is not just a rumor?"

Skuld strode up the steps, smiling at Aslaug reassuringly. "I swear I mean no harm to Ivar. He intrigued me with his sharp mind and tongue. I enjoy his company, any form he is willing to offer me. Everything I did was out of curiosity and affection. I can't claim to love him yet, but I care for him and his happiness - his wellbeing."

Kneeling at Aslaug's side, she took her hand in hers and looked up with vulnerable eyes. Whispering the secret, she wanted none to hear. "It is like he bewitched me. I can't sleep without him near, and every time I hear him laugh or see him smile... It's as if I finally found meaning for what I am meant to be."

Aslaug nodded and smiled at her. "That is good; Ivar deserves a nice woman. After what lies Margrethe spread before..."

"If I could do anything to make those rumors stop..."

"Leave that to me. Go along now. You have hair to bleach." She sent her off with a smile. Skuld walked away and sighed in satisfaction. The whole Aslaug is a threat thing was solved easily. Margrethe did as she was bid, thinking she was saving her own skin, only to help Skuld. 

When Ivar arrived at the docks to depart, he looked at her strangely. "What happened to your hair?"

"Don't you like my hair, Ivar? Don't you think I am pretty anymore?" She teased; the blush on his cheeks was proof enough of the answer. He liked it but was too prideful to admit it, especially in front of his brothers and father. "I wish you good fortune on your journey. May you come back victorious and well."

"So you will not forget about me while I am away?" The truth was, she would probably sleep with somebody in secret, but he doesn't need to know that. She was a woman with needs, and gods know when he will return. 

"Oh Ivar, how could I ever forget a man like you? You gave me many things to remember you by. And when they fade... I will pray for your return day and night." He smirked at the answer and turned to leave, the new crutches making him taller. It was strange to look into his eyes without having to crouch or kneel. 

He fell soon after but crawled on, not showing a hint of pain or humiliation. Cripple or not, the man was truly remarkable. When he departed, Skuld pretended to watch him leave like a lovesick girl. 

Flocking people at her side wasn't so hard. She complimented the merchants at the stand and bought gifts for people. Smiling at children and helping older people carry things was another approach she used. Within a week, she was loved by the people. Her room was always full of young girls that complimented her and played dress-up with her. 

They plaided flowers in their hair and gossiped of the boys they liked. Whenever they asked her of Ivar, she pretended to tear up or just gave them minimal information. How good of a lover he is, how he may seem evil or rude but is very affectionate when alone with her. Some things were true; others were complete lies. After all, she couldn't say that he choked her in bed and she liked it. 

They walked through the town, hands full of expensive fabrics to have dresses made from. Giggling with every step, Skuld looked back at the girls behind her and smiled. "Imagine all the fabrics and gold from the new land Bjorn wants to explore. All those pretty things and alcohol they might bring back."

"And all the pretty male thralls!" They laughed out in glee. Skuld looked back in front of her so she won't trip but was met with a shieldmaiden with a strange shield. 

"Come with me." The tall brunette ordered, glaring at her with a harsh tone. 

"And why would I do that? I don't even know you. Who asks for me?"

"The Queen does."

Skuld looked at the shield and shook her head. "That is not the seal of Ragnar Lothbrok."

"It's Lagertha's!" One of the girls that followed her called out in realization. Before Skuld could process the information, the shieldmaiden snatched her by the arm and dragged her away.

As Skuld was thrown over the woman's shoulder and carried off, she could see people fighting. Lagertha infiltrated the city to take over as Queen. Maybe Gunne was right, and she really needed the dagger after all. 

So she pulled in out from her cleavage and slit the shieldmaiden's throat. The dead woman fell to the ground, and Skuld climbed off her to run to safety. Someone grabbed her from behind and tried to wrench the weapon from her hands.

The girl slammed her head against the attacker's face a few times till the grip loosened. She slipped free and stabbed the warrior in the chest. With a grunt, she pulled the dagger out. Someone hit her over the head with a shield, and she hit the floor, groaning. It wasn't enough to knock her out, but enough to make her stop fighting.

They dragged her to an empty house and threw her in like a dirty rag. "Stay here and wait!" Skuld sprung from the ground and glared at them, seething. She ran for the door but was pushed back easily. 

"You will pay in blood for this! You and your stupid Queen!" They slammed the door in her face and left her in the darkness. 

Skuld marched up and down the hut, cursing under her breath. "They left me here, and now look what happened. I will gouge out her eyes and make her stupid lover watch."

She repeated the last sentence, like a mantra and prayed to the gods for guidance and strength. Walking holes into the floor proved futile, so she sat down with her back against the wall and glaring at the door. "They will probably try to punish me for killing those shieldmaidens. Let them try."

The hut was small, one-room max with no furniture or window, obviously meant as a prison cell. She could feel hay under her ass and the cold bite of winter on her cheeks. Her eyes never left the door, the deafening silence around her suffocating. Twisting the ring on her finger, Skuld stared the door down with determination.

"All this time buttering up Aslaug and Ivar, and in the end, it was Ragnar Lothbrok's ex-wife that got to me. Hjordis would laugh at my foolishness." She chuckled and leaned her head against the cold hardwood. Closing her eyes, she took deep breaths to calm her anger. Lashing out now would do Skuld no good; she needs to save her energy so she can fight back when they open that door.

Her eyes snap open, and she smirks in glee. Pulling herself up on all four and search the ground for something. "Weapooon, where are youu?" Other than a pair of chains in the opposite corner, Skuld found nothing. Even those were useless; strangling someone with them would require her, pulling them closer to the bolts. Too much work and doing that would mean a struggle.

The blonde sighed and leaned her head back against the wall. She let her head fall into her hands and tapped her foot against the floor. The flow of time was hard to keep up with in here. She could be in here for an hour or maybe only half. There was no way to tell. So she tried counting instead.

"One, two, three, four, five..."

Drawing was fun when she was small and the coal from England new, when all she could do was doodle runes and flowers, now when she was thirteen, it wasn't so exciting. But the boys were training in the yard, and she didn't want to be a shieldmaiden. 

She liked herself more like this; in her family, everyone was a fighter covered in dirt with bad manners. Despite being an Earl, even her mother didn't spend time on her looks until it was really necessary. So Skuld did her best to look as good as possible. 

Mother had no problem buying her anything she wanted, what she wanted that she got. A smile here, a whine there, hug, fake tears, and she had the prettiest dresses within a week. Egil always complained that she was a spoiled little brat, but Skuld was more of a princess. Earl's daughter or not, she was made for royalty and ruling.

All the women told her that she was beautiful and graceful. She deserved to be pampered and complimented. Who else out there was as perfect as her? Beauty was her dagger to wield, less messy than the real thing. A courteous smile and sweet words, and everyone ate out of her hand. 

The other girls in Yugar flocked around her like meek little sheep, trying to gain her attention and friendship. You say they look pretty or that you like them, and like naive children, they believe every word. Mother always said it was dangerous to live in a perfect world; it was a nasty place filled with greedy and stupid people. It's your decision on which side you want to be on. 

Her brothers were the stupid ones, running after girls, fighting, burping, and farting to make themselves laugh. Their mother, on the other hand, was smart, which meant she was greedy. After all, she was an Earl and ruled the people easily. Skuld was greedy, too; she wanted to hold power as well. So ambition would be her other dagger, this one sharper and more fatal. 

"Skuld! Come watch Egil make a fool of himself!" With glee, the girl shot from her spot on her mother's throne and run outside to watch Egil fail at flirting.

"Five hundred and thirty-eighth, five hundred and thirty-nine..."

She sighed and banged her head against the wall once. Daggers... That's what she needed, real daggers to carve out the shieldmaiden's hearts. Beauty and ambition would do her naught now. What would she do? Try to seduce the forty-year-old mother or her loyal lover? Maybe some of her shieldmaidens. Undressing always made people speechless, mostly because they didn't expect it. But women still fared better. It was the man that lost all common sense when their cocks got hard.

Women just crossed their legs, scowled, and talked. That's when sweet-talking came in handy, and by morning they were laying naked beside her. But that wouldn't work on the usurpers. Real weapons would serve better. 

Again she hit her head against the wall and watched the ceiling. If there was some light in here, she could at least watch the shadows there. But the room was one huge shadow on itself. All she could see was darkness and her own bright dress and hair. 

Her hand throbbed as she picked at the fresh scabs of her bloody knuckles. Skuld had hit the door in her rage as if she could beat it down. It didn't work; all it did was make her angrier and tired. Oh, so tired. She could sleep and hope to wake up in her own bed at home, instead of a small dark cell. The more time passed, the smaller the room seemed to her. With one last bang against the wall, she slumped down to sleep, bored of the world around her. 

In her dreams, she was back at home, five or four, sitting in her father's lap as he sat on his high seat, ordering people around. Mother always said he was soft, which made him stupid and unjust. He got swayed easily, but on the battlefield, he was invincible. Well, he used to be. Until he got beheaded in Frankia, he got no burial, the boat they burned was empty, maybe he was in Valhalla, perhaps not.

She could care less, barely remembering his face or voice. Sometimes, in her dreams or memories, Skuld sad his fair hair and a small beard. Othertimes he had no face, just a blank head. She never looked above his neck. Why should she? The sigh of the kneeling people in front of him was prettier. She imagined herself in his place, what she would have done. But never came up with an answer. What was the point anyway?

The dead were dead, and she was alive for now. The past was an anchor tying you to the realm of reality so that you wouldn't get lost in the clouds. But right now, she wanted to fly the highest she had ever been. Far away from all this bullshit. The furthest distance away from this hut that probably had spiders and rats hidden inside. Away from the shrinking walls and haunting darkness. She was Skuld Ylvasdottir. The only daughter of Ylva the Brave, Earl of Yugar, the Lioness.

Skuld was a lion as well, a cub, but a lion nonetheless. She wouldn't beg them to let her out. Instead, she would scream her throat hoarse and spit blood on them if needed. Lions aren't afraid of anything, not the dark or death itself. "When I get out, they will no longer call me a naive child or lion cub. I am a woman, vengeful, and ambitious.


	5. Does that make me crazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skuld is alone with herself and reflects back on her past. Passes the time thinking about murder (as we all do) 

  


Sometimes, time passed slowly; other times, Skuld felt like she had been inside the room for years. She floated above the feeling of consciousness, thinking about everything and nothing at once. She lived her life the best she could, enjoying men, women, money, and alcohol.

In her eyes, there was nothing wrong with her lifestyle. Mother always said to do who and what you love. Being someone's pretty little wife and housewife wasn't for her. She was to be worshipped like a queen and live the happiest life. With Ivar, she could have it all. He looked at her as if she hung the moon and ate out of the palm of her hand.

Give it time, and they would become the most powerful couple alive—Ivar's anger and mind, combined with Skuld's ability to manipulate and flatter. She felt the smile pulling at her lips when she imagined their future—the King and Queen of the World. "All Hail Queen Skuld Ylvasdottir. The most beautiful and powerful of them all." She giggled and brushed through her greasy birdnest of blonde hair. 

The grime and dirt were sickening to her, her own waste not that far and no food or water in sight. If they wanted to starve her or were waiting for something, she had no idea. When she wasn't thinking about her future, she planned out Lagertha's downfall, how Skuld would kill her, if she would drag it out or not.

Death and murder were such easy things if you were surrounded by them your whole life. While her brothers were trained in the bolder approach of battle and war, Skuld was taught how to wage war in secrecy. Undermining people, whispering things into their ears, and making them believe it was their idea all along. Her mother taught her five brothers, and life taught Skuld.

The first time she killed, she was not even eleven. Balancing between childhood and womanhood, the girl ran around with the other children. Haldor ran after her like a loyal puppy, the pink-cheeked boy hacking at everything with his wooden sword, saying he will protect her from everything.

The truth was, Skuld didn't need protecting even then. She found out that if you glare at a boy long enough, they will get intimidated and leave. Pretend to be better than them, and their egos make them stutter and curse. Afterward, they are easy prey to ridicule and leave you alone. If not, just threaten them. Years later, the more persistent ones were disposed of during the black of the night and ruled off as an accident.

So at eleven, she ran around carefree, the other shrieking children playing ball. Skuld loved to throw the ball further than the kids could reach or with full force. The stunned face of the child that got hit was always fun, but the crying was annoying. So when the third child broke down crying and run off home, she stopped playing and looked around instead.

The faint chirping of a baby bird could be heard from her left, so she followed the sound till she found the culprit. A baby bird laid under the tree, its wing broken. The mother wouldn't come back for the birdie.

Skuld leaned down to the little thing and cradled it in her palms. It peered up at her, making wounded noises as she looked the wing over. The bone was out, and some feathers were gone. It would survive, but what was it worth if it can't fly. That all a bird is meant for.

  


It would slowly starve to death and die. What a cruel fate that would be. "Skuld, come on!!! I don't want to play alone." Haldor yelled at her exited, the ball in his hands. The girl's blue eyes watched the distressed animal in her hands. There was no way to help him. She can't just raise it till it dies of old age. 

"Skuld!" She could hear footsteps approaching and her mother's voice calling them for dinner. So Skuld tutted at the small bird in a soothing voice and closed it in her palms. The bird pecked at her soft hands, trying to get free. She tightened her hold and slowly squeezed the life out of it. "Skuld, come eat!"

When her mother found her and looked into her hands, she found the bird with its snapped neck. Her daughter looked at the animal with empty eyes. "Why did you do that?"

"Mercy. It would die anyway. Why let it suffer?"

Skuld chuckled at the memory and looked down at her arms; bloody scratches ran down her arms. She doesn't really remember giving them to herself. She recalls hugging herself from the cold and then the blood running down her arms. 

Maybe she was as broken as the bird she killed. Mercy, that's what she called it. Who would show her the same favor? Would they let her slowly lose her mind before she starved to death? Putting her out of her misery would be nicer. What did she ever do to deserve this treatment? She was a royal guest to Aslaug. What reason does Lagertha have to lock her up and slowly kill her?

Skuld was like a crippled bird trapped and doomed. She killed him, and he got a proper Viking burial. Would they do the same to her? 

" _Don't you ever laugh as the hearse goes by,_

_For you may be the next to die."_

She giggled at the song that she heard when she was small. It was sung by some slave that was sacrificed in her father's honor. The old woman seemed at peace with death, so serene as they cut her throat. Would Skuld die the same way? Without putting up a fight when her body was too weak to save her? She doubted it, all the conflict in her way too stubborn to let go. Fuck them all; they won't take her dignity and sanity. She won't let them win. 

Revenge was something her mother despised. Maybe that's why Ragnar Lothbrok survived, or perhaps Ylva gained more than she lost. After all, an Earldom for a husband was a fair trade. Even if it left you with six children, you have to raise on your own. But no matter who wronged Ylva, she gave them a quick death and never mentioned it again. 

The faster it was over, the better. She would gather her warriors, wage war, and win the battle. Quick revenge, expected, but easily won. Skuld wasn't like that. When someone wronged her, no matter how dire, she would wait and then strike. 

When she was a child, not younger than ten, a boy made fun of her for not having a father. Carefully she made her plan and waited for her moment. Within the year it came. The next winter, the boy was an outcast, ridiculed for his destroyed reputation. 

Destroying a man's reputation was essentially harder than a woman's. Call her a whore, pay off a few people to say she did bad deeds, or was a witch, and she was done for. With men, it was more difficult. Loose morals were, for some reason, praised in boys and men. The more women he slept with, the better. But if he has no honor and no fighting skill, then he is shunned.

So she set him against Haldor, dressed as a commoner. The twelve-year-old boy believed he lost against a smaller thin farmer's child. Haldor had better training and thought the fight to be a game. A good excuse to be as dirty as he wanted. 

The other boy was laughed at, and when news came out to the young girls of Yugar, he couldn't charm any girl for years after. The other men and boys ridiculed him, and the rumors grew worse. Now he fights alongside Skuld's brothers in the shield wall. Sometimes she still wonders if he ever found out it was Haldor who beat him and not a farmer. 

Skuld's revenge on Lagertha would take time as well. She had all the time in the world to plan it. Undermining the bitch and killing off her shieldmaidens was a good start. Make her doubt her security and allies till she went grey from worry. Skuld giggled at the thought and hid her face in her hands.

The door to the hut opened, and the sun burned her eyes. She hissed at the bright light and shielded her eyes with her hand, till a figure did the job instead. Lagertha stood before her in a red gown, surrounded by her shieldmaidens. "Lady Skuld of Yugar. The little lion cub. I am sorry for the lack of hospitality. I had a lot to do."

"I am sure overtaking a kingdom is a lot of work. You could have spared yourself the responsibility and stayed Earl Ingstad." Skuld mussed with a shrug, looking up at the Queen from her spot on the ground. She shakily stood up and glared at the shieldmaiden.

"I took what was rightfully mine."

"And what do I have to do with it? I didn't take your kingdom or husband. All I did was fuck his son. Not yours, of course. I do have boundaries." Skuld chuckled and watched Torvi glare at her. _What's her problem? I said I didn't fuck Bjorn._

Lagertha smiled at her and signaled with her hand. Two shieldmaidens walked in, one holding a dress and another a tray with food and drink. Neither was fitting for someone of Skuld's status or hunger. "It is simply a precaution. Your mother may be on good grounds with Bjorn, but she hated Ragnar. I do not know how she stands with me. Keeping you safe is my priority now."

Skuld chuckled and stepped closer, the shieldmaidens moving to protect Lagertha. _What do they think I would do? Throw shit?_ Now that's a thought she could save for desperate times. "Ah yes, and starving me in a dark room with no chamber pot or water is so nice of you. If you think this will help your relationship with my mother, you are an utter fool."

"You haven't been exactly compliant either. You killed my shieldmaidens. Two, to be exact." Astrid answered for Lagertha. Skuld scoffed and shifted on her feet to seem less threatening.

"I come from a line of warriors. So I tend to attack and kill those who try to kidnap me. Sorry." Skuld obviously meant the last word to be mocking as she wasn't sorry at all. 

"You were close to Aslaug and her sons. Keeping you secluded is the safest option, especially with you acting out. It is better for everybody. With your history." She sat down in her old spot and raised the cup of water to her cracked lips.

She looked at Lagertha with a raised eyebrow. "My history? Are you calling me a whore?"

"I am calling you a dangerous woman with love for violence and death. My actions didn't warm your heart to me either. So it is best to keep you in here till your mother returns."

"That could be months."

"So you better get used to your new home." Astrid mocked, causing Skuld to smirk and sip at the water. 

"I hope you will mention my actions to your mother. After all, I could have had you executed."

Skuld chuckled and leaned back against the wall. In a fast movement, she threw the cup at Lagertha. "Get out, you hateful bitch! I hope you rot in Hel for eternity!"

The Queen turned on her heel, offended, and left with some of her warriors. The door closing behind them. Skuld sat there for a while, breathing heavily. Astrid looked at the girl with soft eyes, frowning at the dirty state she was in. "If you do as you are told and reign your temper in, you will get out of here faster."

Skuld chuckled and looked at the female with disdain clear in her eyes. "Manipulating me into liking you isn't going to work, Astrid. It wouldn't work either. It isn't my mother, Lagertha fears. She fears me." Skuld hissed, leaning forward, spit flying out of her mouth as her blue eyes grew wild. She looked like a rabid animal about to pounce.

"Nonsense."

"I fucked Aslaug's favorite son; I won her favor and Ivar's interest. I got my claws into Kattegat's population, the very people that your precious Queen wants to rule over. If I willed it, I could make them overthrow her. Which is no intention of mine, but Lagertha can't be certain of that. So she locks me up, maybe to starve me till my mother returns. Until then, she will gather a big enough force to beat an Earl."

Astrid smirked at her deduction and turned on her heel to leave. "You would have never been a hostage if you just didn't sleep with Ivar. Lagertha would have never noticed you if you didn't strive so high." She laughed, and Skuld shared her amusement.

With a creepy smile on her dirty face, the Earl's daughter sung the verse that gave her hope. 

" _ Don't you ever laugh as the hearse goes by, _

_ For you may be the next to die."  _

Astrid frowned at the threat and left the room, closing Skuld in the darkness again. She sighed and looked up at the ceiling to calm her racing heart. "Since when had getting laid such a high price? I should have gone to bed instead." She groaned and collapsed back on the floor to catch some sleep.


	6. No time to die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skuld finally leaves the hut and reunites with Ivar. She deals with the aftermath.

Skuld sat in the hut, watching the light stream in from the small crack in the wall. The wall was sturdy enough to hold her in, but at least it gave her some sort of light—the only ray of sunlight since the start of her confinement.

She felt empty, emptier than she did before. She must look like a madwoman - dirty and crazy. Yet she still laughed. At least some things are very still funny to her, like the occasional shadow that passed by the crack in the wall or the hopelessness of it all. That was the funniest thing for her—the fact she will probably starve here before getting to leave.

All these visions of her future, all crushed in this endless darkness, all because she fucked a cripple. Who knows if what Astrid said is true? Did Lagertha truly only notice her cause she slept with Ivar? If Skuld slept with Margrethe like she thought she would, no one would have paid her any mind... Nonsense. Lagertha was intimidated by Skuld's mind, not her bedfellows.

The new Queen had to make sure no one would challenge, so breaking the most ambitious woman in court was a good example. Better a madwoman than a corpse. Oh, but she will pay for that miscalculation. Skuld would wait and kill her slowly. Dragging it out till there will be nothing left of the bitch than legends and whispers.

Meanwhile, Ivar sat before Lagertha, annoyed by her denial of their fight to the death. "Where is Skuld?" He asked the smug Queen; seeing the uncertainty in her eyes made him perk up. She knew where the now blonde was.

"Skuld is locked away for her own safety. If you want to care for her, I can give her to you." Lagertha said diplomatically as the sons of Ragnar frowned. Sigurd and Ubbe completely forgot about their mother's guest.

"And since when is the daughter of an Earl property?" Ubbe asked, watching the blonde Queen frown.

"A guest in need of supervision. Not property." Shieldmaidens brought the girl in. Dirty, dressed in a slave garb with greasy hair and bloody scratch marks on her arms.

The people gasped as they saw her, so strange compared to her usual style. Skuld shielded her eyes from the sunlight, squinting at the harshness of it and the whispers of the people around her. "Skuld," Ivar called out, making her look at him with shocked eyes. He was alive.

She slowly walked over to him, the armed shieldmaidens behind her. Ubbe draped his fur around her as she clenched Ivar's hand in hers. She was shaking and looking around like a wounded animal.

"I am sorry for your treatment, Skuld. But your behavior against me is unforgivable." The Ylvasdottir looked up at Lagertha and tilted her head to the side.

Her blue eyes trailed over to the proud female warrior still standing there, her guard down as she watched her mentor talk. Skuld blinked and stabbed the woman in the neck. Blood sprayed over her face as the gasping warrior fell backward, the other shieldmaidens catching her bleeding body. Out of her neck stuck a chicken bone, bitten into sharpness.

Everyone gasped as they watched the woman die, Ivar watching the emotionless look on Skuld's face. The female looked at Lagertha, empty eyes meeting shocked ones. "I will rip you apart, limb by limb. All of you will die for what you die. Maybe not today or in a year. But your days are numbered. And when my mother returns, I will have enough skulls collected to serve them all mead in them."

She turned towards the crowds of people and pushed back her shoulders. "Your Queen, the usurper, took me captive and imprisoned me! She starved me and made me live in my own filth like an animal. All because she thought me a threat. I would have never raised a hand against anyone if she left me be! If she can do these horrible things to an innocent bystander..."

Skuld turned back to Lagertha and softened her look, looking like she might cry, but her eyes spoke vengeance. "What would she do to her people? Are the men and women too poor to pay the fines, too weak or old to fight? What will she do to those who don't please her? A prison cell or an execution?"

"You are not as innocent as you like to make people think. You just murdered the third shieldmaiden since my reign."

Skuld frowned and looked at the corpse. "Your shieldmaidens kidnapped me and locked me away like an animal. If you do that, you should expect the beast to bite back once it is free. The safest option... is to put it down and save yourself the impending doom. But I am human, not an animal."

Lagertha clenched her jaw as if she wanted to protest, but she held her tongue. Ivar and Skuld left the hall, the other two brothers following behind them. Skuld walked with her head held low, her shoulders hunched, and steps timidly. The more beat up she looks, the more sympathy she gains. And the easier Lagertha's downfall will be.

"Are you alright, Skuld?" Ubbe asked her watching the dirty girl walk.

"I will be. I could use a bath, food, and clothes."

The dress they put her in was a nice change against the itchy one she had before. But still, she felt unclean. She scrubbed her skin till it was red, blood trailing from some of her old wounds. Margrethe entered the room with a timid smile. The thrall was a free woman now and set to marry a Ragnarsson. Maybe she isn't as stupid as Skuld would like her to believe.

"Food will be ready soon. I just wanted to tell you... I am also sorry for what happened." Skuld smirked and looked at Margrethe's false look of pity.

"You are angry. I get that. After all, you very nearly beat for spreading rumors." 

"You made me spread them. You said it would save me from Ivar's rage, and instead, Aslaug got angry at me." The blonde ex-thrall glared at Skuld. Angry at the obvious betrayal. She felt like a puppet and couldn't believe she trusted Skuld at all. Someone of Skuld's social status would never be kind to a slave.

Skuld sighed and looked up at the wooden ceiling. "I did what I had to do. You were in no danger, Margrethe. You were a puppet, true, but not a target. Aslaug would have scolded you, not beat you. That's more Lagertha's way, isn't it? She used you more than I did. Worse things."

"Sex slave." Margrethe spat out, annoyed, making Skuld wince. 

"Ah, yes. That bitch is long overdue, don't you think? When the time is ripe, she will fall. For you and for me."

"You want me to believe you are killing her for me?" 

The older blonde chuckled and watched Margrethe's doubtful look. She didn't believe one word Skuld said. Good. She had potential, after all. "Oh, not at all. You just benefit from my revenge. That doesn't mean you shouldn't support me, nonetheless. Free woman or not, take what you are given, Margrethe. Those who strive too high and have nothing to back it up with end up dead - forgotten, with an unmarked grave and no legacy left behind."

"Why all the advice?"

"I told you... We, strong women, should work together. That's the only way we might survive. Always one step ahead."

Margrethe frowned and shook her head. "Is that truly how you live? Always scheming and plotting, expecting betrayal from everyone? Then I truly pity you."

Skuld scoffed and pushed back her shoulders; she looked more terrifying like this. Like a queen about to execute her enemy. And if Margrethe continued to talk, she would become her enemy. "I don't need your pity. This is the world we live in. Where men can do what they want, and only the strong survive. Love, emotion, trust all means weakness in the end. Always expect a dagger in your back; that way, it won't surprise you when it comes. Call me crazy, but I survived. And when all of this is done. All those legendary men will be dead, and the only thing left behind is me. Queen Skuld. Wouldn't it be a nice fate?"

"For a slave to become a Queen? Yes, it would." Skuld smirked at Margrethe's ambition. The fool would die before she ever touched the crown.

"Then I wish you all the luck in the world, Queen Margrethe. After all, you are going to need it." She hunched forward and leveled the ex-slave with a glare. "Not leave. I am still not finished."

Margrethe slammed the door behind her, and the moment they closed, Skuld threw herself on the bed and burrowed herself on in the furs. The walls around her felt small, and the light kept irritating her eyes. Even the voices outside the room were getting on her nerves.

"Never took you for a killing type." Ivar'd voice commented from behind her as he crawled over to her from the door. 

"There are many things you don't know. For instance, right now, I don't want to be around people." The Ragnarsson chuckled and moved up on the bed to lie next to her. But instead of touching her like she thought he would, Ivar just laid there, watching her. 

"Sorry about your parents." She whispered, watching the anger and sadness on his face. 

"It wasn't your fault. We have something in common now, other than than the sex." 

Skuld scoffed at his words and rolled away from him to avoid his offended look. "A common enemy is not relationship material, Ivar. You romanticize it too much."

Ivar rolled his eyes and watched her breathing even out. The scratches on her arms looked terrible—some with newly dried blood on them. "How long were you in there?"

Skuld swallowed and turned on her back. If she looked at the wall for too long, it seemed as if it was inching towards her faster. Ivar's need to talk was driving her up the wall as well; she felt trapped all over again. "I don't know, since Lagertha attacked the village. I was walking, and some shieldmaiden kidnapped me. I killed two but was overpowered. I have no idea how long I spend in that hut."

She felt too vulnerable, admitting it to Ivar. Maybe if she showed some emotion, Ivar would get spooked and leave. Instead, he hummed and took her thin hand in his. "That was two months ago." 

The blonde sucked in a breath and froze. Two months in that hell hole, no wonder she went crazy. She was crazy,... Wasn't she? Only insane people can see walls moving and imagine enemies in every shadow. "Are you alright?"

Ivar's words went to deaf ears as her breathing picked up, her chest falling and rising in panic. Her blood rushing and heart-pounding drowned out his voice in her ears. Skuld clawed at her forearms again; a knock sounded from the door, Ubbe's worried voice asking if they are okay. 

It snapped her from her trance; she sprung from the bed and marched away, shouldering past the oldest Ragnarsson, his wife, and Sigurd. The door banged against the wall as she runs down the hill, needing to be as far away from people as possible. She stopped near a cliff and took in deep breaths to steel herself.

The voices in her head got louder, the pounding of her heart following every sentence like a war drum.

" _You would have never been a hostage if you just didn't sleep with Ivar. Lagertha would have never noticed you if you didn't strive so high."_

_"I am calling you a dangerous woman with love for violence and death..."_

_"Deranged whore."_

_"Glorified drunkard."_

_"What in Odin's name is wrong with you?! Why are you so weird?"_

_"What do you mean you don't know what empathy is? Have you never felt sorry for someone?"_

_"You are manipulating them. They are your puppets, not friends."_

Skuld held her head in her hands, her hair tightly clenched between her fingers as her breathing grew harsher by the second. It felt like her heart would explode out of her chest any moment now and jump off the cliff...

She dropped her hands back to her side and closed her eyes. Pushing her shoulders back and holding her head higher did wonder to her look. The blonde now seemed more in control despite the ruffled hair and scratched arms. Her face was still a little bit red from her panic attack. She turned on her heel and marched away from the cliff. Not even ten steps away from the edge and Skuld turned around again.

_"Why did you do that?"_

_"Mercy. It would die anyway. Why let it suffer?"_

Why let me suffer? And so she spread her arms and let herself fall off the cliff. The freezing water surrounded her and made the world go dark.


End file.
